Author: Michael Avis

We had just lost our beloved Humphrey not quite two months before, so I wasn’t really looking to bring another dog into our family so soon. The first time we saw you Rocky, you had just arrived at the S.P.C.A and you were still lethargic. We left, still unsure about committing to another dog.

We thought it over and went back the next day. By some miracle, you were still there Rocky, and what a change! You were almost happy to see us. That settled it. In October 2008 we adopted you. Looking back on it, I believe it was a sign that you were supposed to be part of our family.
We were together for five years before you left us. As I sit here writing this, it’s raining and I have to believe it is the angels crying for you, Rocky. Perhaps it is Gods’ way of telling us that He knows of our sorrow and that the sun will come out eventually, bringing with it good memories of you.

I’ve heard it said, and I believe, that dogs are angels sent by God to live among us. For reasons known only to Him, He called his angel home. But for the time you were with us Rocky, we made sure you were warm and safe and dry. You were loved, and we always made sure you were part of the family and that you were never lonely. We tried our best, and we hope you were happy living with us. But we’ve done all that we can for you Rocky, and now we must trust in the Lord to take care of you.

We believe that you’re with Humphrey in the land of love divine, and may the goodness, mercy and love of the Lord wash over you. We pray that you know we still love you and that our separation is only temporary. Someday we will all be re-united at the rainbow bridge. Just wait patiently, but until that time; goodbye Rocky.

“Humphrey”

German Shepherd/Samoyed

We had just moved to another city, away from family and friends,when you came into our lives, Humphrey. We went to the local humane society to adopt a dog into our family. There were actually two dogs for us to look at, but the first one was in the facilities’ sick bay, and we were told that if we went in we wouldn’t be allowed into the main building for fear of spreading germs. So, we went in to see you first.
There was almost an immediate bond.

You regarded us solemnly, looking like a little lion. We were told that you had come from another county, where the s.p.c.a. there thought that because of your gentle temperament and obedience, you had a pretty good chance of being adopted. You had been there almost two months, but on July 22nd, 2006 we gladly made you part of our family.

My best memories of our time together were the walks we would take in the crisp autumn evenings. I think fall was your favorite time of year, because it wasn’t too hot or too cold for you. We were so amused at a nine year old, 90-lb dog jumping up and down and running around with his leash in his mouth at the prospect of his nightly walk. Then there was the time we were going out, and you grabbed your rawhide bone thinking you were going with us. It was then that we knew you loved us unconditionally and you filled a big void in our lives.

In November 2007 you developed a gagging cough,and after chest x-rays and an EKG, the vet confirmed it was congestive heart failure. We all knew what the probable outcome would be, but like most people we didn’t want to think about it. With a low-sodium diet and medication you actually did alright and even gained back some weight. Then one day a few months later, you had trouble getting to your feet. The vet said it was arthritis, it would probably spread to the front legs, but it was
too early to tell.

Eight months went by, and suddenly you lost the use of your front legs too. You couldn’t hold up your head for more than a few seconds at a time. Within hours you wouldn’t eat anything, not even your favorite-wheat thins. We took you to the vet, who explained the situation to us and gently said that we should make a decision.

That was the hardest decision we ever had to make. If we waited too long, please forgive us, Humphrey. If we delayed, it was because we couldn’t bear to let you go. But to let you continue on like that would have been selfish. Your soft brown eyes seemed to say “please let me go”, and so we did. We let you off your leash one last time-to run free. It was our final gift to you.

I brought your ashes home on a soft autumn day, the first day of fall-your favorite time of year. It’s not the same as having you greet us at the door with your tail wagging, but it’s a comfort knowing a part of you is back home with us.

This is a road you must travel without us, Humphrey. But may God watch over you on your journey over the rainbow bridge, where you’ll go to a place He has prepared for all beloved pets. A place where there’s no more pain or struggles and you never want for anything. When our journey on this earth is over, we will be together again. But until then, be happy, and please know this; you’ll always be daddy’s’ wheat thin buddy. Always. We will always love you.